Queen of Hearts
by Shadow Padawan
Summary: [Farewell My Queen] The personal writings of three women which reveal a few things that linger just beneath the surface. Femslash.


_From Marie Antoinette's letter to her brother, Joseph II, 1775_

Mon cher frère,

Some people are blessed with those moments in life when they see heaven before it is their time to present themselves before God. I think I have been blessed and seen heaven. It came to me in a flurry of green skirts, floating across the smooth floors of Versailles. It came in the form of a beautiful woman with dark hair and violet eyes, fresh as a rose, lithe and soft. Her voice is like silk and her skin is velvet and satin, like folds of a ballgown or the petals of a rose. She is beauty and danger and love. Yes, love. Oh, Joseph, I wish I had more eloquent words to describe this Gabrielle de Polastron to you. She is like an angel and a demon all wrapped into one. I know you will say that I speak blasphemy but I see no other way to identify her. She is certainly not human. She is perfect in manner but scandalous in the way she holds herself, in the way she speaks of such intimate things. I have only known her for a few weeks but I am wildly in love with her. If anyone can make an impression, she certainly can.

We take the most lovely morning walks and she is always there to comfort me after an unsuccessful attempt to warm my husband up to his duties. He is kind, you know, but very…uncertain in the bedchamber. I can speak to her of these things and I know what you will say – I should not trust a woman I have known for a short time with such sensitive things, but I feel like I have known her for years. She has given me the most lovely advice and demonstrated, even, what I should do. I do think there has been some progress with Louis. It is all thanks to her.

Gabrielle says she cannot afford to stay at Versailles but my heart should surely be broken if she were to leave. I think I will help her family with their debts to keep her close. Would that be too scandalous? Perhaps. But I don't think I can live without her. I may be the Queen of France, but she is the queen of my heart. Would you reproach me, brother, for having found a bosom friend? Do not. I have longed for someone like Gabrielle ever since leaving home and now I have her, a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room, a light and a life and, yes, a love.

Now, if only I could bear a son, all would be well. Speaking of which, our mother's fears are starting to put me into quite a state…

* * *

_From Gabrielle de Polignac's letter to an undisclosed confidante, 1775_

Ma chère,

Everything is going wonderfully here at Versailles. I think I have made quite the impression on the queen. It is true what they say – she is beautiful and sensual and quite temperamental. I like a temperamental woman, especially when I can tame her. The queen is already starting to let me in on her most guarded secrets. This is a good thing, truly. I think I shall be very well settled here soon and have the queen's full trust. She is already hoping to keep me here, which I have told her is impossible becasue of our debts. This is not untrue, as you well know, however it shall serve me well if she were to...extend her royal favor to my family.

You were right to suggest that I use my womanly charms – the queen is very susceptible to them. I have begun to show her some tricks she can employ with her husband. She is very demanding that I do so again and again. Of course, I cannot refuse her but this is fine, as I think the more used to me she is the better. I must say, that her interest in her husband...well, let it be said that I believe she enjoys our sessions for their pleasure, not just for their usefulness.

This is not to say, of course, that I have been prostituting myself in any way. In fact, I find these sessions quite enjoyable myself. As I have already mentioned, the queen is a lovely creature and her temperamental sensuality is new and enticing. She knows not of what her own feelings are, I think. She does not unite the call of her heart and the call of her body as those of us who are more aware of such things do. She sees it all as an intimate friendship. All for the best, I suppose. It does make me think of those nights at the convent when...

* * *

_From the diary of Agathe-Sidonie Laborde, 1780_

Cher Journal,

I was up late with the queen again last night. My duties are to read to her when she pleases, as I have told you before. Often I read her to sleep, but yesterday she was quite indisposed to sleep. I was afraid she may be unwell. But the queen informed me that it was becasue she had had a terrible tiff with her closest friend, Gabrielle de Polignac. I have observed these two on a rare occasion and they truly are very close. Gabrielle is a beauty, though no one can match the queen's magnificence, of course. Yet, for all her splendor, I do not understand how the duchess can be so cold to the queen, so heartless as to upset her. She has been given such great favor and she squanders it on moods and fancies. I cannot imagine how anyone can think of anything but how to please the queen. It is the greatest honor and the greatest happiness. My greatest happiness, at least.

Last night, when the queen did finally sleep, I could not force myself to leave for several minutes. I merely sat there and watched her as she breathed in and out, her bosoms rising and falling gently. The sight took my breath away and I felt a painful yearning in my heart, like nothing I had felt before. Or, no, I lie. I have felt it and I have written of it. It is the way my queen makes me feel. She is splendid and I have no greater desire than to make her happy and to please her. She has told me before that my presence and my reading sometimes calm her and I have never felt more meaningful in my life then in those moments.

But I fear that for the past two years of my service here, I have seen her merely as a goddess, someone to worship. (Which she still is, but that is not all.) Last night, seeing her distress at the argument with her dearest friend, seeing her sleep so softly and perfectly in the soft candlelight, I finally saw her as a woman. It is awful, I suppose, to think in these base terms of the queen, but beneath her clothes there is a woman's body and beneath her bosom a woman's heart and a human soul, which belongs to God as all of ours do. I was so taken by this realization, so in awe of the sudden closeness and common humanity and feeling that I sensed between myself and the queen, that I fled her bedchamber with great haste.

I still cannot shake this feeling of awe and calm my trembling. I should not feel this close to the queen, should not have the dreams that I had about her tonight. It is indecent, but I cannot help myself. And my whole beings burns like fire at the mere thought of her and I will certainly never be the same again…


End file.
